A Fated Connection
by GM
Summary: Buffy discovers something that links she and Giles as Watcher and Slayer.


bufated1

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A **Fated ** Connection   
By Maura Kelly and GM

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EMAIL: IcyKnights@aol.com OR martin5@qnet.com   
**_RATING_**: PG   
**_SPOILERS_**: After the PROM and before GRADUATION episodes   
**_FEEDBACK_**: That would be nice, we always appreciate it.   
**_SUMMARY_**: Buffy discovers something that links she and Giles as Watcher and Slayer. **The first in a series of stories.**

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DISCLAIMER: These wonderful characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Productions, Kuzui Enterprises, 20th Century Fox Television, the WB Television Network, we don't mean to no infringe on any copyrights. 

"You don't have to do this, you know." 

"I don't mind. It's been some time since I've been out with you." 

Shaking her head at her Watcher, Buffy Summers strolled past a particularly old grave marker and slid her wooden stake along the top of the uneven granite. She didn't believe a word he said -- not that he was maliciously lying to her -- but Giles was in his protective Watcher mode and insisted on accompanying her on her slaying rounds. 

Normally, unless he was checking up on her technique, she discouraged his involvement on patrol. With the mayor's ascension coming up things were getting worse than ever in Sunnydale, and she needed her Watcher where he excelled best. Trying to figure what the Mayor's ascension meant to them and the rest of Sunnydale. Besides, she worried about him. 

Stopping at an old crypt, she casually glanced at her mentor. As a trained Watcher -- who taught her almost everything she knew about slaying -- Giles could take care of himself well enough. Why did it make her nervous to have him along? For the same reason he wanted to be here with her. 

The mayor, Faith, the aspect of the demon, Angel's break-up with her, the ascension and Wesley's arrival as replacement Watcher brought new dimensions of tension to living on the Hellmouth. While Giles would never, ever admit it, the recent events had been hard on him. Protecting his Slayer was something he could still do -- his personal contribution to her safety -- and she wouldn't deny him the opportunity to help. Giles' strengths could not match the Slayer's in combat, but then, his power came not so much from physical assistance, but his emotional generosity, strength, and stability. On a practical note, his skill and muscle power came in handy, too. Last night he dusted two vamps and helped haul away the body of another no-mouth demon. And it didn't bother her to know he was safe. With him on patrol she knew where he was and that he was protected against predators both demon and human. Selfishly, she also admitted that thinking about danger to Giles kept her mind off of Angel. 

While neither of them ever mentioned her eighteenth birthday disaster, she knew Giles still felt guilt and sorrow over his part in the archaic ritual to rob her of strength to fight a vampire. Surprisingly, her rage and hurt at Giles and his betrayal had died almost instantly that night when Quinten Travers had fired and then _threatened_ Giles. Buffy still worried about what Travers and the Council might do to a former Watcher who refused to leave his Slayer to the care of a new Watcher. No question that Giles had not budged when Wesley arrived to take his place. Of course, she thought smiling wryly, no one could ever take his place, and hopefully the Council had figured that out by now. Her real concern though centered on what they might do to forcibly remove Giles from the picture. 

In an odd-mirror image way they seemed to live parallel lives. Over the last few years they had been together as Watcher and Slayer, things had happened to them both which had been achingly similar. 

But she knew, as always, that Giles was here to protect her, watch her back, he knew the pressures and heartaches of the Hellmouth were beating down on her now worse than ever before. 

In the beginning of their relationship she would have laughed at the thought that he could protect her while on patrol. Since that time they had been through so much together and she had learned so many hard lessons about life. One big instruction she would never doubt or forget, was Giles' absolute devotion to her. He was here for her -- not for the Council, not to fight vampires, not to enjoy the fresh fruits of California -- he stayed here to be her personal advisor, her protector, her guide, her partner and her friend. 

"We're fated." 

"We're what?" 

"Fated. Trapped by our destinies. Both of us." She slumped against the wall. 

Joining her at the crypt, he leaned a shoulder against the cold stone. In the quarter-moonlight and the anemic glow of a distant street lamp, only half of his face was illuminated. The melancholy, yet fond expression, however, was easily distinguishable. It had been a long time since she'd seen him happy, and irrelevantly wondered when she'd last seen him light up with that quirky smile he rarely displayed anymore. 

"You're distracted, Buffy. You should go home. I can finish the patrol." Voice quiet, soothing, his tone reflected the sympathy, the understanding he felt for her. "And there are your finals to be preparing for, remember?" 

Buffy nearly cringed. He knew she was preoccupied with Angel. It made her embarrassed and somehow guilty to know he hurt for her because of the abrupt break-up. Ever since Angel turned back to Angelus last year, Buffy had never felt comfortable discussing the vampire with her Watcher. How could she? Angelus had tortured Giles, killed Ms. Calendar, threatened all her friends, and nearly destroyed the world. 

If that wasn't enough, Buffy had kept Angels' return from the dead a secret. She told herself she didn't want to tell Giles because it would hurt him -- she knew it would. Besides, did she really love the vampire anymore? Had she really loved him after sending him to Hell? Was Angel just a habit she couldn't break? While she was trying to decide the ramifications of that relationship, she had hurt Giles even more when the secret came to light as all dark and ugly secrets eventually did. And after Angel's little trick to get information out of Faith when he had pretended to turn back to the wicked Angelus? That act had been all too real and frightening. Yes, she had asked him to create the subterfuge to fool Faith. But now? Could she really love him again, knowing that the demon Angelus still existed so close to the surface of Angel. 

There were other reasons to avoid the subject of Angel, more to do with guilt, but she didn't let herself think about those very often. Giles loved her and he ached so much when she hurt, just like she so deeply felt his anguish when he suffered. His love was his strength to her -- why he was so compassionate and nurturing as her Watcher, why he remained with her even after his dismissal. 

Her own love for him kept her leaning on him when she needed unconditional support. Of all her family and friends, he was the one she could turn to for unquestioned loyalty. Resigned to her Fate as Slayer, she knew she could not survive without him, to continue to guide and sustain her. That devotion from him was also the reason she could not bring herself to talk to him about Angel. Then what did it matter now anyway? Angel was history. She was going to move on with her life. 

"I'm not distracted," she denied, insisted. Why did they always do this to each other? She lied to him, he lied to her, all in the name of mutual protection and concern. Why couldn't they just tell each other the truth? For once? "Okay," she sighed heavily. "I'm distracted. A little." 

Some of the sadness and ache diminished from his very expressive eyes. "Then it won't hurt to have a bit of back-up." His face turned grave. "I don't have your Slayer instincts, Buffy, but I can't help but feel something is going to happen tonight. I want to be with you, see you safely home." 

"Thanks for the creeps," she shivered. 

"I'm telling you as a warning, not as a distraction, Buffy. Too many times I've kept things from you and it ends up being detrimental to your safety. Use this 'impression' of mine to your advantage, please, not to your distraction." 

"Okay, you're right. But what if you're wrong?" 

"Then I won't ever claim my premonitions have any merit. Fair enough?" 

"Okay." 

Soberly he studied her. "Perhaps what I'm sensing is from you -- your --disturbance." 

Striving for a casual air, she cleaned her fingernails with her stake. "Do you think it's possible to fade out of love? In a hypothetical kind of way, I mean. To be not in love but -- oooo --" she rubbed her head with her hands. "Forget it." Glancing at Giles, she froze, suddenly realizing how hurtful and personal the observation must be for him. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up. Oh, I am so mentally challenged." 

Giles pressed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be sorry. Part of putting the past in it's place is to confront it, not ignore it. You're thinking of Jenny. I'm no expert on love, Buffy. I don't even know if I loved Jenny. Aside from the tragedy of her untimely death, part of the pain of last year was the never knowing -- being robbed of the chance to know if I loved her." After a gentle squeeze of her arm he released his hold. "It doesn't matter, does it? If I've learned nothing else in my time in Sunnydale, I've learned how dangerous it is to lose focus -- to stray from what is right. You are my Slayer -- despite what the Council thinks -- and you are my focus. There is no room in my life for anything -- anyone -- else." 

Impulsively she rushed into his arms, hugging him fiercely. "You are the way best person in the whole world, Giles." 

Smiling, he hugged her tightly, basking in the warmth of the moment. He could have held her all night, but soon felt her release her grip and he reluctantly released his. "You know, the more I get to know you the more I realize we're a lot alike." 

"I know what you mean." 

"Guess we better finish up here, huh? Maybe take a look around the park?" 

"Yes, certainly." Now distracted by his own thoughts, he started off, then stopped when she didn't follow. Alerted, he scanned the cemetery. "What is it?" 

"I was just thinking -- maybe sometime I could talk to you about -- things? If you wouldn't mind?" 

Turning back, he took her by the hand. "Anytime, day or night, Buffy, I am available to talk, or listen, about anything. That is why I'm here." 

She patted his hand. "Thanks. "I'd like -- I mean -- I'll let you know." 

His eyes seemed to look right into her, recognize the trepidation, and understanding it. "Certainly." He removed his hand. "Now, one more round through the cemetery, and I'll quiz you on Othello." 

"Oh, pleeeze." The pout was ignored. 

"Come now, you wish to do well on the English final, I know. And Othello is really quite an interesting work." 

"Yeah, murder and betrayal and the dark forces inside -- yeah, sounds just like another day in Sunnydale." 

Giles laughed appreciatively at her comparison. Buffy joined in, glad to have lightened the moment for them both if only for a moment. 

Moving off the wall, they turned around the corner together, straight into four vampires. Parrying a lunge from one, Buffy backed into Giles, who grabbed her shoulders and turned her out of the path of the biggest vampire's clawed hand. Buffy pivoted and shouldered into her undead opponent, plunging her drawn stake into the creature's chest. Turning to face the next one, she wondered why she had not sensed their presence. Disturbed, she channeled the anger into her punches and staked another enemy while kicking the other over a headstone. Quickly glancing around, she saw Giles wrestling on the ground with the last vamp. Her next attacker charged and she staked him quickly, turning to help Giles. As she approached, the vampire turned to dust all over the Watcher's body. He loosed a predacious sneeze, followed by a hacking cough. 

"Never breath in when you stake, Giles." 

He sneezed again. "Should know better." Concurring, he wiped grit from his eyes and face then coughed again. 

"I think I better take you home." She reached down and helped him to his feet. 

"No, no, I'm fine, really. Let's just call it a night. I'll drive you home." 

"Let me take one more look around -- " 

"Buffy, you're distract --" 

"Giles, I'm a big girl. I'll be fine. Just go home and get that yucky dust off you." 

Hesitating, Giles stared at her with an intensity bordering on the unnerving. "With the mayor and Faith and -- well, I still feel ill at ease --" 

"Giles, I'll be extra careful. Promise." 

Reluctantly he nodded. "Please call me when you get home so I know you're all right." 

"I will, worry-wart. Now go home." 

*****

Showering, gargling and taking a dose of antihistamines improved Giles' physical being if not his frame of mind and mood. Absently he combed his hair, pondering the nebulous premonitions filtering through his mind. 

Something dark and troublesome lurked just beyond conscious thought in his mind. To say something evil was afoot would be redundant, here on the Hellmouth, but there it was. Something out of the ordinary, a threat imminent and real seemed so close, yet completely without form or shape. How could he relay such vague anxiety to Buffy? Her premonitions were so much more distinct and defined. After all, she was the Slayer. Watchers, on the other hand, were never intended to have premonitions, at least no Watcher had ever mentioned that happening in any of the journals he had read. But Watchers did possess instincts honed for the survival of the Slayer. Those he had relied on all to little in the past. Where were those sixth sense warnings when Angel turned back to a demon, when Angel returned from the dead and when Buffy ran away last year? Sometimes he wondered if he had really done any good as her 'official' Watcher. He had failed to protect her from Angel, from the Master, from himself and the wretched Council test. 

Glancing at the clock he bit his lip, aware Buffy's tour of the cemetery should have been terminated by now. Why didn't she call? Nearly midnight, he couldn't risk a call to the Summer's residence. He'd give it another half hour, then he would go back out and search for her. 

Why didn't he insist she carry a cell phone or a pager? Because he would have to buy those electronic items for her and how would they explain that? Already he felt nervous about the frequent expenditures he doled out for unofficial upkeep on his Slayer -- even before his dismissal from the Council. Now that no stipend would be continuing from England, he would have to make do on his librarian salary. Cash for donuts, drinks and assorted replacement clothing (damaged in the line of duty) added up all too quickly. 

He had gotten a clear idea of parental expenses when it came to supporting children -- after all, he seemed the parent locus for Buffy and her friends. Not that any of that clandestine sustenance could go on an expense account. The Council would have never understood, let alone the school district. 

With a sigh of irritation he buttoned his shirt as he went downstairs to make tea. One cup's worth of waiting, then he would go searching for his Slayer. A noise in the study startled him. 

"Buffy?" Relief flooded him. She had returned while he was in the shower. "Buffy, why didn't you tell me --" 

In the doorway of the book-filled room, he froze. Faith stood frozen as well, an open book in her hands. Surprise, fear and anger danced through his thoughts as he watched the lithe girl slowly close the book on the desk. Behind her the etched-glass front of his antique Victiorian bookcase was shattered. Bloody hell that had been handed down to Watchers in his family from the time of his great grandparents. 

Anger escalated to enmity for the girl. She had been a Slayer -- one of the Chosen. She had thrown it all away for power and evil. For her weakness he could forgive her. For her betrayal -- her threat -- to Buffy, he could not forgive nor forget . 

"Looking for anything specific, Faith, or is this just general burglary ?" 

Any hope for neutrality was gone with the confrontational opening. Faith visibly bristled, sneering at her former ally. "Nothin' special, Watcher. Former-watcher, I mean. After blowing it with Angel I thought I needed to give the mayor something to make up for my mistake. Thought I could take something from you. You're the brains of the outfit, after all. In fact, that whole set-up with Angel supposedly turning bad again -- that was your idea, wasn't it?" 

Cold resentment surfaced. "Why did you turn, Faith?" 

"To the dark side? Don't you remember your Darth Vader?" She laughed at his stern glare. "It's more fun being bad." 

In all conscience, he had to give her one more chance. Not because she was a Slayer, or because he was once her Watcher, but because he, himself , knew all too well the scars running so deep from tempting the dark side of human nature. "Faith, it's not too late --" 

The scowl turned her smooth young face ugly, the course words as vicious as her expression. "Oh, come on, Giles. There's never been room for anyone else on your team. Don't give me that happy family routine." 

"We tried --" 

"To make me feel welcome? There's only room for one Slayer in your life, Giles. And you already chose. Buffy gets everything -- just like Barbie. She gets the Watcher, the family, the friends and she even comes with her own little set of wooden stakes. What I could never figure out was why. No, strike that. What I couldn't figure out was how you could still be so in love with her after all she put you through." 

He shook his head in denial. "You don't know what you're saying." 

Faith came around the desk, inches from his face. This close he could see the chill hatred in her eyes, the bitterness of her soul. "The lies, the vampire boyfriend, the firing from the Watcher Council. It's all her fault and you still follow her like a love-sick puppy dog. If it wasn't so pathetic I'd laugh." 

Disgust and revulsion nearly poured into words, but he stopped himself quickly. How could he argue with perceptions so close to the truth? She would see right through his weak defense. Nor could he argue with her attitude. Forcing her to see the ugly truth might make her more dangerous than she already was. 

Best get her out of his house. Grasping for his calmest, most reasonable focus, he reminded himself that an enraged Slayer could easily kill him. Best if he gracefully backed off and let her win this petty war of words. 

Giles stepped to the door. "I think you better leave." 

Faith picked up the book she had been reading. As she walked past he grabbed onto the book, but she held her grip fast, allowing his force to pull her close, propelling herself against his chest. He shoved her away, but she retained possession of the book. More forcefully she pressed against him again. 

"This is one of the Watcher rule books, isn't it? My Watcher had one , too. I was lookin' one day and found an interesting little tidbit -- complete with illustrations, Giles. A Fated Connection. You ever heard of it?" Lightly she fingered his chest hairs exposed by his open shirt. "A Watcher and Slayer get together and they have more power than ever. If they're fated to be together." Her fingers snaked up to his neck and combed through his hair. "I think we should test the theory." 

Giles pushed her away. "Good-bye, Faith." 

The violence surfaced in her eyes an instant before it erupted from her body with Slayer-quick speed. Not quick enough to offer any defense against those rapid reflexes, Giles could not prevent himself from being hurled to the floor. Catching his breath cost precious time and she body slammed him, driving the air out of him again. His glasses skidded off to some unknown destination. 

"You didn't think you could get rid of me so quick, did you, Giles?" With one hand she grabbed his wrists above his head. With the other hand she ripped his shirt open. "I can show you moves Buffy''s never even dreamed of, Watcher-baby." 

Her nails scraped his flesh, eliciting a yelp of pain. Throwing her head back in delighted laughter, Giles took advantage of the distraction. Scissoring her off with a twist of his legs, he scrambled clear of her. Slayer reflexes again won out and she tackled him to the floor. 

"So you want to play hard, huh? Just the way I like it. I want that Fated power, Giles and you're going to give it to me!" 

The first punches were savagely powerful, but clumsily delivered in her rage. He countered with a feint and twist, moving just out of reach long enough to grab for the bottom drawer of his desk. If he could get a weapon -- 

Faith's foot connected with the side of his head, slamming him into the solid wood desk. "Did you really think you could win against a Slayer, Giles? Maybe Buffy, but not me!" She kicked him in the stomach and ribs, doubling him over in pain. Pounding fists against the side of his face, she loosed her long pent-up anger on the helpless Watcher. Nearly unconsciousness, Giles tried to trip her up, succeeding in bringing her off her feet and onto the floor. Before he could reach for the desk again she stomped his hand, then kicked him over onto his back. Kneeling over him, she raised his head by clutching a handful of his hair. 

Her right fist swung near his eyes. "I'm going to leave a lasting message for your Slayer." 

Abruptly ramming his head into her face, he was pleased to see he gave her a bloody nose and lip. Her rage promised he would pay dearly for the trivial injury. 

The doorbell rang, startling Faith. She saw the naked fear in his eyes. 

"Saved by the Barbie Slayer? We'll have to continue this later, Watcher." 

"No." Giles muttered in consternation as he realized that Buffy was totally unaware of the danger she was walking into. But his hoarse entreaty was ignored by the totally enraged Slayer. 

Faith dropped her grip on his hair and his head smacked the floor as she sauntered out of the study to greet the other Slayer.   
  


***

As she waited for the door to open Buffy was unpleasantly reminded of another time she had stood at this door, anxious about the reaction she would receive when it opened. After she had run away last summer she found this place the hardest spot to come back to. Giles' heartsick worry for her was something she had well imagined. She had sought out her Mother and then her friends, before she had acquired the necessary courage to see Giles. Having realized even from the beginning that facing him would be the hardest of all the reunions when she finally returned to Sunnydale . She knew his disappointment and pain would be worse than all the others combined. Amazingly, typically, his was the simplest, the sweetest welcome of all. 

Now she stood here again, ready to flee without waiting for an answer. He said he would talk or listen any time. Was she ready to talk to him about Angel? Couldn't she discuss her doubts and fears and emptiness with Willow so much easier? There would be no censure, no condemnation from Giles, only understanding and torment. How could she put him through it when she knew how much he hated Angel? 

The door opened and Buffy drew in an amazed breath. 

Faith! Blood trickled from Faith's lips and nose. Buffy tried to speak but the surprise wouldn't get past the frozen fear of discovering Faith here, now, in Giles home. 

Like the predator she was, Faith used Buffy's weakness against her. "Your Watcher plays rough, Buffy. I'm surprised you can take it." 

Faith stepped out, onto the porch. and Buffy backed against the wall, ready to fight. "Where's Giles?" 

"Still in one piece, pretty much. I never made it with a Watcher before. Watchers and Slayers, we're fated to be together, you know. Course you do, he's all love sick over you. But you'd rather sleep with a vampire. Guess you won't mind much then if I take _your _Watcher --" 

Buffy slammed her against the door. "If you've hurt him --" 

Laughing, Faith licked the blood off her lip. "Nothin' that won't heal. Not like you. You use him, rip his heart up and stomp on it like a piece of garbage. If he was my Watcher things would have turned out different. But there's no room in his life for anyone besides you. You're his Fated Connection." 

Buffy didn't want to think about her lies -- especially the ones that touched so close to the truth. Is that how she treated Giles -- used and abused his friendship -- his love? Giles loved her, she knew that. Not just friend love but love love. The accusation was not startling or even surprising, but something she had known for a long time. 

Seeing she caught Buffy off-guard, Faith laughed. "Tell him, bye, till the next time I come to play." 

Faith broke free of the hold and for a moment Buffy remained in her battle stance, uncertain if she should let Faith leave. With a smirk Faith moved away. Tempted to go after her, Buffy's fear for Giles' safety overcame her desire for revenge and she ran into the house. 

"Giles!" Scanning the living room, she moved through the hall to the kitchen. "Giles!" 

A noise, not quite a word, not quite a cry came to her attention. She ran back to the study, appalled at the sight of her injured friend on the floor. 

"Giles!" 

Kneeling beside him, she didn't know exactly what to do first. Bleeding from scrapes on his face and scratches on his chest, Giles moaned, lifting his hand toward her. Tenderly brushing his hair she leaned close. 

"Shhhh, Giles, be still. I'm calling an ambulance --" 

He gripped onto her hand. "No." The whispered plea was breathless, desperate. "Fine. I'm fine. Just a few lumps. I'll be all right. Won't even need stitches." 

"You're bleeding -- " 

"I've had worse. Don't want to bother with the paperwork at hospital. Could be a trap -- safer here." The words came easier, the breathing more stable. He focused on her, pulling her closer. "Been hit on the head before. Faith? Did she hurt you?" 

Buffy bit her lip, restraining a sigh of anguish. How could he be worried about her at a time like this? "She's gone. Don't worry about her." 

Giles pulled her closer and studied her face. "She wanted to hurt you." 

Tears burned in her eyes. "She did." The whisper was broken, bordering on a sob. 

He pulled her face down to press against his. "We're all right this time. She caught us off guard. Mustn't let that happen again." 

She pulled back to stare into his eyes. "I won't, I promise." The threat in her tone was clear. 

A smile flicked at the edge of his mouth. "I'm sure you won't." 

"You bet. As soon as you're okay I'm going to kill --" 

"No, you're not going after her." 

"I am --" 

Giles seized onto her wrist with a strength she didn't think he possessed. Desperately he stared eye to eye. "This could be a ploy to trap you, to take you off guard, to kill you, Buffy. We can't play into their hands now. Whatever Faith does, you must not go after her. Not until after the ascension. Promise." 

Her nostrils flared with anger, but his whispered demands softened her heart. "Only till the ascension." 

"Well done. Now come along, help me move. Don't want to lie here on the floor all night." 

Buffy remained skeptical. "Is it safe to move?" 

"Yes, I'll be fine. To the sofa I think." 

Frowning, Buffy repeated her objections, but agreed to help him walk to the living room. At the first sign of serious injury she vowed to call for an ambulance. Slowly she helped him to his knees, then to his feet. Carefully they inched their way to the other room, where she gently placed him on the sofa. 

First aid supplies were upstairs in his bathroom and she jogged up to find them. Her hands full of bandages and antiseptic, she started out of the bedroom, then stopped. Backtracking, she crossed to his nightstand. Next to the clock were two very familiar photos in elegant frames. One was her senior portrait. The more prominent 5X7 was the prom picture she's insisted on with Giles. It had been such a turbulent, crazy time with Angel breaking up, the hellhounds, being named Class Protector and dancing with Angel. Sometime in that confusing mesh of extremes she had three memories that now seemed almost sweeter than all the rest. The first was when she had entered the gym and seen Giles from across the room -- approval, relief, pride washed over his expression and touched her more than she could put into words. His respect was given sparingly and when she received a full dose of it she felt that she had accomplished something great. Perhaps on prom night -- she felt triumphant and pretty -- he looked proud and handsome -- a moment she would never forget. 

The second freeze-frame memory was the way her former-Watcher squirmed with embarrassed pleasure when she asked him to dance. The other was when she insisted on posing for a photograph with Giles. He muttered all the way to the photo corner, but held her close when the photographer clicked the picture. When she got the copies she chided Giles -- he had glanced down to look at her when the picture was taken. He'd ruined the picture, she'd teased. For the first time she really noticed the expression on his face -- complete adoration and love as he looked at her. 

Clutching her burdens she gulped down a knot of emotion choking her throat. What would she have done with her life if Faith had killed Giles tonight? Slowly she returned the living room, tenderly fussing over his comfort. Cleaning and patching his wounds, they determined he was not concussed and his ribs were not broken. 

"First aid training should be a requirement for Slayers, not just Watchers. How did I do?" 

"Hmm. Yes, well done, thank you, Buffy. There are some pain pills in the kitchen cabinet. If you could?" 

"Okay. I'll fix some tea, too." 

"No need -- " 

"No, I want to." 

He grimaced at the thought of Buffy attempting to make a decent cup of tea. Not something he had bothered to include in his training sessions. 

"And perhaps you can find my glasses?" 

While fumbling around the kitchen, Buffy cast frequent glances into the living room, watching her Watcher. Every minute brought more anger and fear from the attack on Giles. Faith was out of control. Who knew what she would do next? Somehow the possibilities seemed pale in comparison with what almost happened here tonight. Faith could have done much worse -- even killed Giles. Such incredible pain seized her heart at that thought that she wept, savagely wiping away the uncontrolled tears. 

In control again, tea steeped and ready to pour, she took pills and water out on a tray Giles often used to serve the brew. Kneeling by the sofa she poured him a cup and stuffed pillows under his head so he could sit up enough to drink. 

"How's the tea?" 

Tentatively he sipped it carefully. "Good, thank you. I'm impressed." He offered a weak smile. "Did you have any luck finding my glasses?" 

Without them he was forced to peer at her from close range. He seemed younger and better looking without the glasses, but also more seasoned to the harshness of life. She had seen him before without the glasses and now, as then, he seemed so much more vulnerable. Perhaps because in those times he had been hurt or desperate -- much like now. She was almost reluctant to return the shielding eyewear. "No, I'll do that now if you want." 

"No rush." He placed a soft hand on her arm. "Thank you. Your timely arrival saved my life. Or at least my dignity. What was left of it." 

Buffy didn't want to think how far Faith would have gone with violence to her Watcher. What she did was bad enough. "You did your best. There's no way even a Watcher can win against a Slayer, you know that." 

"Yes, I do. It doesn't make it much easier to accept." 

"By the way, your premonition about to tonight was accurate, but the threat was to you not me." Buffy pointed out to him thoughtfully. 

Assured he was settled and as comfortable as possible, she went in search of his glasses leaving him to ponder her last comment. 

On the floor of the study she found the bent wire framed spectacles. Also on the floor were several books, the pages crinkled. Knowing how much Giles would hate that kind of shabby treatment of his precious books. Placing them open on the desk, she smoothed out the pages with her hands. She couldn't help reading the easily legible words, which included a familiar phrase. Fated connection. 

Amazed, she scanned the pages, absorbing the details of a fascinating couple -- Ian Sampson and Arden Miles -- Watcher and Slayer -- married in the 19th century and the last known Watcher/Slayer marriage to involve a Fated connection. The book included an old-fashioned photograph of the couple -- she was young and pretty, wearing a plain dress with a celtic cross around her neck. He was much older, strikingly serious and handsome under a thick, pointed mustache. Chilled, she noted Ian gazed at his young bride with naked adoration and love -- captured for all time in the black and white photo. Without question, the man could have passes as an older, sterner Rupert Giles. 

"So you've found the books." 

Buffy nearly dropped the volume on her foot. Recovering, she placed it down, crossing the room to put her arm around Giles' waist. "You should be resting." She guided him over to the chair. "I found your glasses." 

With a grimace he bent them back into place, taking several minutes to adjust them properly. "How much did you read?" 

She settled on the desk in front of him. "A hundred years ago a Watcher and Slayer were married and had something called a Fated Connection. You're related to them aren't you?" 

"My great-grandparents." 

"Wow. This is really a family thing for you, isn't it?" 

"Some believe my only claim to fame as it were." Giles commented wryly. 

Buffy scowled at the insult. No one would dare say that about her Watcher to her face. "Then they don't know you very well. What is the Fated connection? Faith mentioned that to me." 

Giles winced, upset about Faith's knowledge of that particular connection. He explained that some Watchers and Slayer in the past had married. In some instances, those marriages were Fated Connections -- where the coupling linked the psychic and spiritual strength of the Slayer and Watcher and their powers multiplied. Few documented cases existed, because the connection was just a myth, or the Watchers felt it dangerous to document such power in too much detail, or because the journals had been damaged or lost over the centuries. 

"So that's what Faith wanted to do tonight -- this -- uh --" Buffy growled with anger. "There is no way Faith is going to touch you again, Giles, I promise. Consider me your bodyguard till we can get through the ascension." 

"Buffy, I assure you I can --" 

"Be a good Watcher and let me do my job." 

Leaning forward, he soberly glared into her eyes. "My job is to protect you --" 

"So we get to rewrite the guidebook again. Yay us." Her expression reflecting her serious concern, she placed her hands on his shoulders and bent close till they were face to face. "I can't let anyone hurt you, Giles. I need you too much. Faith is not going to get to you again." 

Buffy leaned back, studying his face. He had aged since he'd come to Sunnydale. All of them had, of course, but in a tough, harsh wear and tear on the body and soul. Gray lightened his hair and until the prom it had been a long time since she'd seen him really smile. 

"I appreciate your sentiments, Buffy, believe me. But we do have more important things to worry about. You can't be distracted by what Faith might do or what she says." 

Some inner need compelled her to confess the next statement. She didn't stop to think of the impact on him because of her need to know the truth. "Faith knows you're in love with me." 

Giles studied her eyes for a moment, then turned away from her touch and eye contact. His expression pained, but almost instantly closing down to a hard neutral mask. "You need to concentrate on the ascension --" 

"I've known since I could read minds, Giles. You did a good job blocking most of your thoughts. You couldn't shield that one all the time, not very well. Your worry about me was really strong." 

"Sorry." 

"No, that was one of the nicest things to know. In a way. It also made me understand how much I've hurt you with Angel --" 

"Buffy, please -- I can't take back my love for you, nor can I apologize for how I feel. I can only promise I will not let it interfere with working together. " 

Holding her hand close, she wanted to touch him, but couldn't. "I know as well as you that you can't stop falling in love with someone because it's not right. Love doesn't work that way." 

"A Watcher should have more control. I've failed you --" 

"By loving me? By helping me and sacrificing -- even offering up your life for me? No one else has cared for me like you." There had been so much hurt between them, around them, she was so tired of the pain. Wasn't love supposed to heal the injuries to the heart? "I love you too, Giles, you know that, but maybe not in quiet the same way." Buffy looked thoughtful for a moment realizing before now she had never thought about Giles in that context. It was something she needed to examine closely but at another time, when things were not pressing so heavily on them. "But that shouldn't matter, right? Isn't the important thing that we do love each other? That we'll protect and care for each other no matter what?" 

Mutely he nodded without looking at her and touched her leg. She held his trembling hand in both of hers. When the shaking stopped he wiped his face, sighed, and shot her a darting glance. 

"This is too much for you to think about now. _We_ must concentrate --" 

"On the ascension. Okay, boss man. But right now lets get you up to your room so you can get some sleep. I have to take care of you, you're the one who's going to figure out all the important stuff for me to do. We'll take care of the Mayor and graduation and everything. Then we're going to have a nice little history lesson." 

"History lesson?" 

"Yeah, I want to know about the Watchers and slayers -- how many Fated Connections have there been?" 

"Several." 

"Cool." 

[**THE END**][1]

   [1]: imagine.htm



End file.
